An earring for me
As we sail the sea
Take a peg from the timbers
To use for me leg

I treat the men well
As we plunder the oceans
As we ride the swell
As we feel the sea motions

Breathe the salt air
With nary a care
With a heave ho and a glug of rum

Barter with natives in their canoes
No matter that they have no shoes
There's gold in the holds of ships to be had
Hand me that jug of rum, lad

The trading companies filling their coffers
Such wonders that our sea life offers
While the lords and the ladies of Europe dance
We can plunder some of their finance

Not always gold, sometimes spices for trade
But me feels a sneeze as I sharpen me blade
Diamonds and jewels are there for the taking
Yo Ho; leave the fine folks quaking

Off the port, a storm rolls in
Up and Down with a pirate's grin
Maybe no rum; maybe some gin

The storm roils the waves
Ourselves lashed to the deck
The mates are me knaves
Wind blown salt at the neck

Breathe the salt air
With nary a care
With a heave ho and a glug of rum